The Art Project
by LadyEpic101
Summary: Teenager Cecilia Thorburn moves into a new' house' with her stepmother, father, and half sister. She discovers a box of movie reels in the attic and watches one, passing the disturbing footage off as some sort of art project. But the family poses an interesting problem for the resident deity. The youngest is unable to carry out his will, but he will make due.*Romance just in case.*
1. Chapter 1

"So, Cissy, what do you think?" Amelia Brewster-Thorburn asked her step-daughter.

"It's a big ass house," The dark-skinned girl replied, looking up at the mansion.

"Well, yeah. Got it for a steal, though. They say a family was murdered in here, under _strange _circumstances. Maybe it's another mystery you could solve," The spunky twenty something woman picked up the lighter of her stepdaughter's bags.

Cecilia sighed, hefting her duffel bag up by the handles. She could see her half-sister's faced pressed up against the window next to the door, watching her intently, trying to decide if she was really there or not. Cissy smiled and trudged up to the doorway, barely sliding through with her bag.

"THITHY!" Brook lisped at the top of her three-year old lungs.

"Hey, Beebee," Cecilia greeted, heading towards the stairs, "Which room's mine?"

"The one right nextht to mine," The bubbling toddler shouted.

Laughing, Cecilia turned the brass knob with her free hand and pushed open the door, walking into a spacious room furnished with two mattress stacked on each other and a dresser. A large window let light in, making a four-paneled pattern on the wooden floors. She set her bag down and walked down the stairs, listening to her sister chatter on and on about the cartoons she had watched that morning. Leave it to Dad to have the TV up three days after moving in.

"Your dad was thinking that you could turn the attic into a mini-ballet studio so you can practice whenever you want, the ladder's already down and everything. It's totally empty, 'cept for a cobweb or two. Anyway, it's time for little miss Brook to have a nap," Amelia finally finished.

Cecilia knew exactly where Beebee got her mouth from. Sighing, she turned away from the mother and daughter and trekked back up the stairs, walking down the hallway to a rickety looking ladder leading to a dark attic. She pushed her bag ahead of her, listening to the rustling of its contents. She finally worked her way into the pitch black attic; she tugged on a chain she felt tap her head. A pitiful lone light bulb managed to illuminate the entire room. It must have been at least thirty by twenty. Amelia must have missed something, because there was a box filled with old film reels and a camera in front of a sheet that might have been white once. Curious, Cissy tiptoed over to the box, kneeling down to get a closer look. The reels were all labeled like home movies. Cissy pulled one out. It read 'Pool Party '66'.

She turned the reel over in her hands. It seemed really old, but still in good condition. One weird thing about the reels was that the time frames were so far apart. Maybe it was some sort of tradition, each owner of the house left a video to show its history. Curiosity overcame Cecilia, and she pulled out the projector and aimed it at the screen. After a second of technical difficulties, she managed to get it to play. A video of a family happily playing and eating around a pool popped up on the sheet. Cissy smiled. They looked so happy, but they were definitely not at the mansion.

Suddenly, the tape cut. It was night, and the bodies of what appeared to be the family from earlier were laying on pool chairs. The camera panned over a vase with neon green liquid. A rope tied to the chairs was pulled, and one by one, they all fell into the water. She watched as their feet kicked and they struggled, before the footage stopped on an image of a man standing under the water. Cecilia stood from her criss-cross position and walked toward the screen. On closer inspection, she noticed that he seemed to be unaffected by the physics of the water. His eyes were heavily shadowed, no, they were non-existant. A triangular patch of black were all that marked his orbitals, contrasting sharply with his pale gray skin. The only defined features he had were a nose and brow ridge; his mouth was marked by black splotches lighter than his 'eyes'.

"Cissy! Dinner!" Amelia shouted from the hallway. Cecilia jumped. She turned her head to look back at the trap door. As she told her stepmother that she'd be right there, the figure on the screen looked at her, then looked away just as she turned her gaze back to him.

"Coulda sworn you moved," Cecilia mumbled more to herself than to the strange man. She walked back to the projector and turned it off, leaving it in the middle of the room.

* * *

(Late Night)

Cecilia laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling. A dark blue comforter was draped over her waist, leaving most of her torso bare. Restlessly, the teen grabbed her journal from under her pillow. She fished opened it and grabbed the pen that held her place. She began to write.

_July 2013_

_Just moved into a big ass house. Someone was murdered her. Amelia's a try hard._

_There was a box and projector in the attic. I watched one of the movies and it seemed like some sort of art film. Except I don't know what sort of crazy CGI they used to get the creepy guy's image to be affected by the surface of the water, but not his hair or coat. (I'd be lying if I said he wasn't creepy in a kind of sort of a little bit hot way. This is why I need a therapist)_

_Anyway, here's a crappy little drawing of what he looked like_

**DRAWING**_  
_

_-Cecilia_

Cecilia left her journal open next to her, in case she might think of something else to write. She didn't, and fell asleep.

* * *

Bughuul stared silently down at the girl in her bed. Her family posed a new challenge. The youngest child wasn't old enough to carry out his will. But the older girl, she still had a childlike soul. It would do, but he had to be careful. The last time he had crossed paths with someone like her, he ended up sealed away for a decade. On impulse he reached out to touch her light brown skin. It felt like hot coals against his icy skin, yet it did not bother him much. He cupped her cheek, wondering what her soul would taste like.

* * *

Cecilia dreamt that she was watching herself sleep from the foot of her bed. Out of the shadows, the figure from the video stepped to her side and stared down at her, watching her sleep. He reached his hand out to touch her cheek. As it made contact, she felt a calmness spread over her, even as her cheek felt like it was frostbitten.


	2. Chat Log 1

**[REAL CREEPYPASTA CHATROOM. SHARE YOUR CREEPY EXPERIENCES AND SEE IF OTHERS HAVE SEEN THE SAME!]**

**_{Joining Chatroom: The Sleepless... You are now talking with your fellow insomniacs}_  
**

TheRealSlendy: So, anything new with you ladies?

xxxJeffdekillahluvuh787xxx: i had a drem wer jef ws me winow n tol me to go to slip.

TheRealSlendy: Fantastic. Well, remember that old abandoned asylum I told you guys about? I went to check it out but there were a bunch of police officers there and they told me to stay away. Suspicious.

**DancefortheDarkGod has joined the**** chat.**

DancefortheDarkGod: I have something that you might actually want to hear. I can't even figure out what the hell is going on.

xxxJeffdekillahluvuh787xxx: DIDUMEATJEFFFFFFF?

TheRealSlendy: Do tell. Is anyone else here?

Bigbootybitches: BBB reporting 4 dooty

Notaspambot: no, it's just you three

bigdickdan:  PLEASE THE LADIES WITH THIS SIMPLE TRICK!

**User: bigdickdan has been reported as a spambot. We apologize for any**** inconvenience. **

DancefortheDarkGod: Well, now that that's over, let me tell you what happened. So, I moved in to this big ass mansion last week, right? And I go into the attic and there's this fuckin box of old like super 8 reels ore something. There's also a projector and a old yellow sheet set up against the wall, so i watch one of the videos: Pool Party '66

TheRealSlendy: Sounds like that one classic pasta . Please, go on.

Notaspambot: so what was on the videos

DancefortheDarkGod: It started out normal, you know just a family enjoying their pool n stuff. Then it cut to night, and all of the family members got drowned in the pool. That's not even the wierdest part though. The tape stopped on this crazy lookin guy with stringy black hair and no face except for a nose. oh and RealSlendy it wasn't slenderman because his skin was dark gray like a corpse and he had really black spots where his eyes and mouth were. He had these really creepy brow ridges though.

Bigbootybitches: u shud fuk him

xxxjeffdekillahluvuh787xxx: i thik bbb is rite hesouns sekksy

Notaspambot: please ignore the idiots iin all honesty it sounds like you have either a really good prank or a demonic entity on your hands keep us posted dancer

TheRealSlendy: Stay safe, milady.

**{You have left the chat.}**


	3. Chapter 2

Ah, the first day of school. A wondrous time of getting ass-lost in the winding halls of a new building. At least it was her last year. Cecilia sighed and shuffled off to her first class of the day: PE.

Thankfully when she got there, the teacher - a young man that could pass as a very ugly woman- told her that today was just taking roll and making sure everyone had shown up. Cissy thanked him and sat down on the bleachers, pulling a spiral bound notebook out of her backpack. A pencil was jammed into the metal spring, and it didn't come out without a fight. The seventeen year old started sketching.

The strange man had filled her thoughts lately. Not a night passed where she didn't dream of him standing over her, watching her sleep. It was disconcerting the way he looked at her, or didn't, rather. It was like she was just a meal to him, like he couldn't wait to devour her very soul.

"Hey, cool drawing,"

The sudden interruption of her thoughts made her jump. Sitting next to her was a guy, about her age, with a half-shaved head of red hair.

"Name's Byron. How 'bout you?" He stuck out his pale, freckled hand.

"Cecilia, or Cissy. Just make eye contact, say something, and I'll know you're talking to me," she shook his hand.

"Coolio. Whatcha drawin'?"

"Oh, nothing just- hey is that Jeff the Killer on your shirt?"

"You're a fan of Scary Spaghetties?"

"And Terrifying Tortellini,"

The teens laughed at their own cleverness. They spent the rest of the period discussing their favorite creepypastas, and the worst and funniest ones they'd ever read.

All the while, they did not pay attention to the shifting drawings on the paper. What was once stick figures and disproportionate sketches became lifelike drawings of a very sinister figure.

The bell rang, causing both Cissy and Byron to jump up and knock their backpacks onto the floor, spilling out the contents. In their haste to gather the notebooks and pencils and folders, neither noticed that one left with one book too many, and one left with one book too little.

* * *

A very ancient being watched the exchange between his prey and another mortal. He had a strong dislike for others meddling in his affairs. He watched the boy and girl interact very closely. It seemed that the boy was attracted to his meal.

Bughuul didn't like sharing, and decided to make that known. It was an unforeseen but fortunate stroke of fate that the boy, Byron, took the notebook containing his image. Now all he had to do was wait.

* * *

Cissy arrived home from school early. She wasn't feeling well, so they let her walk the ten minutes home. She supposed that was the beauty of small town America. She wouldn't dare walk alone in her old neighborhood. The door opened with a creak and the girl locked it behind her. Amelia and Dad were at work. Brook was at school. The house was empty, save for her.

Time to dance.

All she needed to do was change, grab the old boombox and head up to the attic. That was accomplished simply enough. The wooden floors would make dancing difficult, but not impossible. She pressed play, and let the music take her over. It was just a warm up track, started out slow, and built up in speed and intensity. It was entirely contemporary dancing; Cecilia liked to challenge herself. She absorbed herself in her dancing, so much that she did not notice that the projector turned itself on.

Finally, the song ended, leaving her sweating and out of breath. A cold light from her left caught her attention. An image of the man from the Pool Party video was projected on the screen.

"What the hell?"

The man tilted his head.

Cissy jumped, then laughed at herself. Must be a coincidence. She stepped over to the projector and was about to turn it off, until she realized that there was no film in it. So, she knocked the projector over. Grinning triumphantly, she looked at the faded yellow sheet hanging from the rafter. The image of the man was still on it, head still tilted curiously at her.

This wasn't happening.

Anger filled her for reasons she didn't understand. She marched up to the screen and reached for the top so she could tear it down. Freezing hands caught her forearms. Her eyes went wide as she looked at the man in the image. From the wrist down, his hands were outside of the image, in the real world. That was impossible. She was hallucinating. She had hit her head and she was dreaming. A gentle tug on her arms confirmed that this was reality. She looked up at where his eyes should have been.

He 'stared' at her, 'gaze' unflinching. He tugged on her arms again, as if to say, 'Well? Aren't you coming? I don't have all day.'

Cissy planned on ripping her arms away from him and tearing down the screen, but just as she started to put force behind that motion, he let go. She fell onto her back. After the initial pain subsided, she started scrambling away on her back, until she was pressed against the far wall.

The man stepped out of the image.

_'That_'_s not possible.'_

He took a step toward her. He walked like a king.

_'This can't be happening.'_

Paralyzed by fear as she was, Cecilia found herself standing, sliding up along the wall.

He was only a few steps away.

Cecilia gulped. He was directly in front of her, towering over the diminutive teen. She had always thought she would be ready for the day she confronted the supernatural. She thought that she would never be frozen in place by sheer terror, that she would run, that she would fight.

But she couldn't move. She couldn't fight back as the icy hands cupped her jaw, sending cold shocks down her neck. She couldn't protest as his face neared hers. Couldn't find the strength to lift her arms when he paused, as if to prolong her torture. And she couldn't think when sandpaper-like skin pressed against her lips. She wanted to scream, to shove him and to run. But she was tired. She was limp. She was asleep.

* * *

He let her slide to the floor at his feet. He had only tasted her soul, and what a wonderful taste it was. Not entirely pure and innocent as a child's, not corrupted and bland as an adult's. It was an entirely new sensation, a flavor unique only to her.

And he wanted more.

* * *

**AN: After eating peanut butter all your life, sometimes you want a little jelly.**

**That sounded wrong.**

**And stupid.**


	4. Chat Log 2

**[REAL CREEPYPASTA CHATROOM. SHARE YOUR CREEPY EXPERIENCES AND SEE IF OTHERS HAVE SEEN THE SAME!]**

**_{Joining Chatroom: The Sleepless... You are now talking with your fellow_**** insomniacs}**

DancefortheDarkGod: Guys I really ned your help. Remember that giy in the videos i waas telling yiuabout? yeahHEFUCKINHWALKJEDOUTOFONE.

xxxJeffdekillahluvuh787xxx: OMGDIDYOUKISSHIMZ?!

DancefortheDarkGod:  Well it #$*^&s more like HE kissed ME.

Bigbootybitches: BUTTSEX BUTTSEX BUTTSEX BUTTSEX

TheRealSlendy: HE FUCKING KISSED YOU?! What happened? We need the details so I can white knight.

DancefortheDarkGod: Well I was dancing in the attic and all of the sudden the projector started going. I went to turn it off and there was no fillm in it. Then I knocked it over, but there wasa picture of him still projected on the sheet. I started to pull the sheet down, but he REACHED OUT OF THE PICTURE AND GRABBED ME AND TRIED TO PULL ME IN well it was kind of more like tugging at my arms like I was supposed to go wtih htim. Then he backed me up against the wall and held my face with hsi hands and kissed me.

Notaspambot: i thought you said he didnt have a mouth

DancefortheDarkGod: He doesn't. His skin felt like sandpaper.

Bigbootybitches: "Bughuul, Devourer of Children, is an ancient Pagan god believed to live within images of himself in any and all media. He is not known to attack adults, but there is a myth that states that he can and will consume the soul of anyone under the age of eighteen." Source: Encyclowiki

DancefortheDarkGod: Thanks bbb. now i have to worry about my sister too.

Bigbootybitches: since i told you who he is you have to sleep with him no backoutsies.

TheRealSlendy: guy88970S9708ithink35493I ';[];./[heardsomething0=p-23;e'.2;3p42gonnagocheckitout

**User: TheRealSlendy has left the chat.**


	5. Chapter 3

Cecilia sat up. Someone was calling her name downstairs. Her back popped as she stretched, wiping the sleep from her eyes. What time was it? Four, four thirty? It was still dark outside. Her bare feet made light slapping noises against the hardwood floors. The stairs sent icy tendrils through her legs. Something was wrong. She stopped mid-yawn. Someone was calling her name from the attic now. A deep whisper, it sounded like it was coming from inside her mind.

Her instincts told her to run back into her room, pull the covers over her head, and go back to sleep. But she couldn't do that. For the past three years of her life, she sought out every creepypasta, every urban legend, watched every scary movie so that she would be prepared for this day. The day she faced a being of the supernatural. She couldn't back down now. Her feet moved on their own, her hand pulled the ladder down of its own accord. Mechanically, she ascended the wooden rungs until her feet were on the next floor. A simple black box rested in the center of the attic. Cecilia picked it up. It felt as light as air. She put it back down. Something wasn't right. She had to get back to the safety of her room.

The hallway to her room felt longer than before. A reluctance to return to her bed crept over her. A tugging sensation blossomed in her chest. She wanted to go back to the attic. With every step she took towards her room, she grew more feverish. Sweat dripped off of her nose. Her mind grew foggy. The walls distorted, growing and shrinking incessantly. Every sound was amplified. She could hear Brook breathing in her room; the shuffling of her blanket as the toddler twitched in her sleep sounded like booming thunder.

This wasn't right. Why was she walking away from the attic? It was safe there. The walls were the right sizes. It was quiet, it was safe.

Quiet. Safe. Quiet. Safe.

It took hours to reach the ladder. But still, the sun was not up. It took days to climb.

Everything ached when she reached the top floor of her home. All she could do was collapse and pant uselessly on the floor. The icy chill that swept through the room felt good on her skin.

Footsteps.

Cecilia knew she should panic. Knew she should scream for someone to help her.

But she couldn't. Not when she felt so safe.

Arms slipped under her knees and back. He picked her up effortlessly.

But then, what else could you expect from a god?

Her head rested between his neck and shoulder. What happened now?

He was taking her somewhere.

She tried to move, to escape his grasp, but her body would not respond.

And why should she escape? His grip was so gentle. He would protect her. She was safe.

She was on her bed. Why wasn't she still in the attic?

A cold hand covered her eyes, and she was asleep.

* * *

**AN: So this chapter was originally longer, but I decided to split it into two parts. Double/triple update today maybe.**


End file.
